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“Not really.”
Okay… Put in my place, I look around the room. “You have a lovely house.”
“Thank you. I like it.”
“I can’t imagine living somewhere so big on my own, though.”
“I like being alone,” he says flatly. “I come here to escape the world. I don’t need family, or children, to make my life complete.”
Ooh, that touched a sore spot.
I lower my gaze to my pasta and spear some on my fork. Maybe this was a mistake. I can’t quite work out our relationship. I think of us as a similar age, but the three years difference seems bigger at the moment. He’s done a lot more than I have—he’s traveled, gone to university, he runs a business, and he manages huge amounts of money. I know he’s well-respected in the business community, and I met some of the guys he has connections with in Auckland, all of whom are rich, smart, powerful men. He said we’re friends, but we’re not, really. We have mutual acquaintances, but we have nothing in common. I’m not the sort of girl he’d be interested in dating—I’m not wealthy, sophisticated, or accomplished in any way. I know Cassie works in fashion and is semi-famous in the industry. I’m sure she drives a flash car and owns designer sunglasses, and knows the difference between various wine grapes, rather than buying whatever’s on special offer.
We don’t have a class system as such in New Zealand, not the way they do in England, but the rich and poor still lead very different lives. His dad’s a billionaire; mine has just been made redundant from the meat processing plant. James has hired me to look after the baby—he’s paying me to perform certain tasks. I’m an employee—we’re not friends, not really.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I lift my gaze to his, surprised.
“That was rude of me,” he adds softly. “You’ve just cooked me dinner, and you’ve been kind to me all day. Don’t mind me. It’s nothing to do with you. I’m a grumpy old bastard.”
I laugh and eat a mouthful of pasta. “You’re not old.”
“A grumpy young bastard, then.”
“Yeah, that’s better.”
He chuckles. Then he eats a forkful of the pasta. He chews for a bit and swallows, then says, “Mmm. That’s good.”
Pleased, I smile, and we eat quietly for a while, while Bic tells us to get some sleep, and the warm evening sun gives Leia a golden crown.
Chapter Fourteen
James
“Is this the first house you’ve owned?” Aroha asks.
I nod. “I have an apartment in the city as well, although I’m thinking of giving that up. But I saw this place for sale a couple of years ago, and I kept thinking about what it would be like to have somewhere quiet and out of the way, where I could go when I needed some time alone.”
“Why didn’t you take me to your apartment?” she asks curiously. I have a sip of whisky and just look at her. She reddens. “Oh, of course. I guess Cassie stayed there, and she might have come back. Sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for. I’m the arsehole.”
“You were on a break,” she reminds me.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen Friends.”
She gives a small smile. “You’re not back with Cassie though?”
“No. We’re done,” I say firmly.
She leans back, looking puzzled. “You say you bought this house because you needed time alone. That surprises me. You strike me as a sociable kind of guy.”
“I am, mostly. But I suffer from migraines, and when I get one I like to come home, pull up the metaphorical drawbridge, and wait for it to pass.”
Her eyebrows rise. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve never known a man suffer from them.”
“They’re not as common as they are with women, but yeah, some men suffer. Maddie has them, too. I mean had them.” I correct myself sadly and sigh. “So did our mum.”
